The Typist…or whaddyacallit…

got some ‘splaining to do…

I’ll say you do. Yes, you. Don’t act so surprised, Mrs. W. I actually wasn’t going to harp on it, but since you brought it up, Madam, I have a few questions to ask YOU.

Like, why on earfs, did you let it get so COLD out there? are you ever planning to do something with all this snow?

And who’s bright idea was it to seal the upstairs dormer windows with plastic sheeting? Do you know it’s like IMPOSSIBLE now for me to get back in? do you even realize how much hard work goes into climbing a tree to get away from the horrible Orange Introoder? He was back wif a vengeance last night, did you know that? do you even care? Hmm? Do you?

Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have my daring escape plan foiled by a sheet of plastics?

No. No, now stop. I’ve heard enuff. Don’t interrupt me wif nonsense about “insulations” and “heat proofing,” and “polar vortexes” and “you aren’t allowed on the roof in the first place…” A little less lip from you would be appreciated.

Okay, I’m going to curl up in teh laundries now and I want you to fink — fink really long and hard about what you have done. In fact, why don’t you write it down? Then maybe we can talk.

yes and no. Horrid Orange Intruder is a feral cat who lives in the colony down the street with the crazy cat lady who feeds them but won’t let them in. They have an under porch area that looks dry-ish. He may be a relative of Sparky’s, altho she’s having ‘none of it,’ from him and his “overtures.” If so, that tough-kid attitude of hers may well be inherited.

Hmmm…Geting stucks on the roof…mes would has liked to hears the human side – like – their frozen hands gots stuck to the rungs of the ladder… the ladder breaked the window…the human had to climb on the roof to gets yous and yous then scampered down the ladder – just as they reached yous….
Pleasetells us!!!!
Kisses
Nellie

rilly? um, not sure why that would interest you. Unless you want to report them to the ASPCA, which someone should. But, to the best of my recollection, there was a lot of calling my name and i got as close to the edge as I could and looked as precious as possible before running away from their grabby hands. Then, sadly, there was a lot of impolite languages and then a ladder banged against the wall which was un nerving, so I hide again and then more impolite words and THEN the door slammed and I was out side for a long long time. At least a year. I think I died three times. Then they tried the ladder once more, this time bringing a peace offering of a can of stinky food. I was so touched by this that I consented to be taken down. But, as is typical of his thoughtlessness, Mr. W’s hands were cold.

Mr. Whatshisname is beardy and furry and whiskery enuff to be almost passable. As I told Nell – his hands, however, were very cold. Proving my point yet again.
In an aside – Blogger won’t let me post comments! I stop by your bloggie with verreh, verreh important things to say, but Blogger sends me error boxes! WTW?!

Sparkies, my sweet chilly darling! How I miss you! My Human, irresponsible harridan that she is, has been letting me post but hardly helps me visit and comment at all, and NOW look what I find! You practically FROZE no thanks to those unreliable Humans who don’t deserve you. Come out here where it’s warm, my darling!